My Love is Like A Red Rose

By Robert Burns

O’ my luve is like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June;
My love is like the melodie,
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melts wi’ the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love!
And fare the weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love,
Though it were ten thousand mile.